


The Space Must Be Getting To Him

by NadiasGhost



Category: Voltron - Fandom
Genre: "I have to gay-- I mean go", Bedsharing, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Not like this, i wanted it to be short, jesus fuck this is over 8k words, level 6 out of 12 spicys, lots of lance mcclain being adorable and important, mostly cannon compliant??, rated teen for Keith and Pidge's swearing and the word "moaned" lmao, really trope-y actually, touchstarved keith, were they ever really enemies tho, yall thought this was gonna be spicy but its not that spicy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadiasGhost/pseuds/NadiasGhost
Summary: As they moved around each other in the kitchen Keith noticed something. Lance was his usual stupid self around Hunk, unaware of his own limbs, bumping into him and sliding past him in the small space, but with Keith he maintained a careful distance.Keith felt.... Upset? He shook his head. Why did he want Lance to bump into him, that was stupid. But as it became more evident that Lance was purposefully avoiding touching him, Keith became more frustrated.He wasn't scary! He was just chopping some goddamn space broccoli! -- oh, well maybe he had made the comment about the knife.As he went to pass Lance, he intended to brush past him, easy and uncomplicated. But Lance moved for him like the red sea parting, gracefully exiting the shorter boy's personal space."Lance. What the hell?"**Here's the summary I wrote on my phone drunk and at 3:00 at my friend's house last summer lmao:Lance is a needy boy and starts hugging everybody more bc he misses his family and everybody is chill with it but Keith is a touchstarved lil bitch and eventually they just start platonically cuddling all the time and the crew has to tell them they are fucking gay





	The Space Must Be Getting To Him

**Author's Note:**

> i started this so fucking long ago and i decided to finish it right now because i have so many exams i need to study for wow  
> the end is not as good as i wanted but like bleh here u go  
> this doesnt really count as keith or lance character study but i can pretend  
> i swear to god i will expand my writing in this fandom and stop it with klance getting together fics

It started off with Spanish music playing faintly from down the hall, and the cold dark abyss of space.  
Lance was cooking. Which never ended well. Keith had already done an hour on the treadmill, showered, and changed into jeans and a t-shirt. But when he entered the kitchen, it was a scene out of a happy house of roommates. Shiro was in pyjamas at the fridge, running a hand through his hair and pulling out the Altain equivalent of orange juice. Allura and Coran were sat at the breakfast bar, Coran already dressed (did the man own pyjamas??) and Allura in a space nightgown, chatting with Pidge. Allura's hair was crazy and her under eyes were vaguely smeared with yesterday's makeup she'd yet to take off. Pidge was sat atop the breakfast bar, still in pyjamas as well (did the child own other clothes??) papers spread out around them. Their laptop was balanced on one knee, and on the other sat a bowl full of sliced bananas Lance had set there.  
Lance himself was twirling around the kitchen, humming along to the music softly playing from what appeared to be an iPod touch. Naturally, Keith thought sarcastically, the priorities of team Voltron. Lance had covered both the breakfast bar and both counters in the preparations for what appeared to be pancakes, and Hunk was hovering nervously behind him, attempting to convert Altaen measurements in earth ones and back again, even as Lance ignored him and "eyeballed it". Both boys were sleep ruffled and pyjama clad, and even in a faded old t-shirt and flannel pants with little hearts slung low over his hips, Lance held the attention of the room with his valiant pancake making efforts.  
Keith looked away from Lance before he could get caught staring and sat beside Allura at the bench. "You trust him not to burn down the castle with his cooking?" He asked her, in a way announcing his presence. She laughed, but Lance, bodily holding Hunk away from his mixing bowl, squawked "hey I heard that!" before sticking his tongue out at Keith.  
Keith was content to sit in a room full of commotion and say nothing. Shiro passed by him, placing in front of him a glass of orange juice and absentminded running his fingers over Allura's hair as he continued through the kitchen. He was humming as well, though the song was in Spanish, and Keith doubted he knew what it was about.  
"Are you going to eat a pancake?" Lance teased Pidge, distracting them momentarily from their computer. "Not if you're cooking, McClain," they deadpanned. Hunk was now helping, and Lance and him moved around each other in the kitchen easily, brushing past each other, Lance to the stove and Hunk to the counter. The comfort and ease felt like a real family's kitchen.  
Lance brushed past Hunk again, and then past Pidge, ruffling their hair. He wiggled a pancake at Allura and Coran as a joke, declaring loudly that it was an earthian delicacy. As he passed behind Keith, his elbow brushed against the small of Keith's back, and Keith practically jumped out of his skin, stiffening at the sudden contact.  
He turned his head in time to see Lance's eyes widen. "Sorry man," the Cuban boy mumbled under his breath, continuing back to Hunk.  
The rest of the pancakes were made without a hitch, but Keith was mentally kicking himself for reacting so strongly. He didn't care, he was fine that his team all felt comfortable in each other's presence, he shouldn't have locked up in surprise like that. It's just.... He was living in space now. Sure, he trained with them, and he sat next to his friends at the table every morning and night, but he genuinely didn't touch anybody very often, he realized with a start.  
But Lance's eyes had flashed big like a puppy's, full of hurt, and Keith regretted his reaction. Next time, he vowed, no matter which teammate, he would control his startle.  
**  
Since Zarkon was currently not attacking, and the distress signal sirens weren't blaring, Shiro took the 5 lions and their Paladins out for formation training. By the time they returned to the castle, Keith could feel a muscle burn in every single molecule of himself-- but in a good way. He was exhausted.... And starving.  
"IT'S HUNK AND KEITHS TURN TO MAKE DINNER!!" Pidge yelled, running off, presumably to go collapse into their bunk before they could be reigned into chores. Shiro muttered something about consulting the chore chart, consulted the chore chart, and nodded. "Hunk and Keith on dinner today."  
Keith groaned but followed Hunk to the kitchen.  
"Hey guys, I'll help!" Lance called, running to catch up to them and leaping onto Hunk's back. "Nooo buddy, not now," Hunk groaned, depositing him onto the floor, "too tired."  
"You just want to snack on our dinner preparations," Keith muttered, half to Lance, half to himself. Lance laughed, "you got me, mullet."  
They made a good dinner making team for the most part, Keith chopped the vegetables, Hunk added the vegetables to his giant pot of stir fry, and Lance stole the vegetables from somewhere in between that process, perched on the counter. "Lance I swear to god I have a knife and if your fingers pass onto my cutting board one more time--" Keith's threat was evidently empty, as Lance was able to steal a pepper, hop off the counter, and giggle out of harms way.  
As they moved around each other in the kitchen Keith noticed something. Lance was his usual stupid, unaware of his own limbs, self around Hunk, bumping into him and sliding past him in the small space, but with Keith he maintained a careful distance.  
Keith felt.... Upset? He shook his head. Why did he want Lance to bump into him, that was stupid. But as it became more evident that Lance was purposefully avoiding touching him, Keith became more frustrated.  
He wasn't scary! He was just chopping some goddamn broccoli! -- oh, well maybe he had made the comment about the knife.  
Keith got up and walked to the fridge for another broccoli, purposefully manoeuvring around Hunk, and touching his shoulder to let him know he was there. When he went to pass Lance, he intended to brush past him, easy and uncomplicated. But Lance moved for him like the red sea parting, gracefully exiting the shorter boy's personal space.  
Damn. Keith frowned.  
Dinner was quiet, but happy, most of the sounds being clinking and chewing of eating. "Keith, Hunk, good job," Shiro smiled, still eating, and Coran rolled his eyes at the younger man. "Hey! What about me?!" Lance demanded, his mouth full. Keith made an "EW" sound, and Hunk laughed at his friend. "Lance you ran vegetable interference, you didn't help at all."  
The Cuban boy pouted.  
Keith was the first to finish, and he excused himself, already thinking about shower, pyjamas and bed. As he was washing his dishes, Lance entered the kitchen, humming under his breath, and all around too energized for a boy who'd spent the day training.  
"Hey mullet," he said easily, as Keith began to dry his plate. As Keith leaned up to put his plate away, Lance reached past him for the soap, and they bumped into one another. Keith was between Lance and the counter and he.... Didn't mind.  
"Shit! Sorry man!" Lance jumped away from him as though electrocuted, and Keith blinked in surprise. "I'm so sorry, I'm just really tired, I know you don't like it when anybody but Shiro--"  
"Lance!" Keith said quickly, blushing, "it's fine. You can touch me. I'm fine with it."  
"Oh." Lance reached out a hand, a fucking hand, as though he was going to poke Keith just because he could and Keith was.... Kind of okay with that idea??  
Lance quickly snatched his hand back. "Sorry it's just that I'm used to like a lot of people, my family, and us all bumping into each other all the time and I'm kinda touch oriented I guess and I'm just really feeling the whole space thing a lot these days you know and you guys are like my second family--"  
"It's just I really want everybody on the team to feel comfortable with one another and sure I'm not always comfortable with touch but with you guys it's usually fine-- I mean I'll always tell you if its not-- and I don't know I mean I just--"  
They both stopped rambling at the exact same moment, and Lance rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, well, I'm glad we got that sorted," he mumbled.  
"Yeah, sorted," Keith echoed. Even as his mind continued to race. I bet he hugged his family a lot back on earth, God it would feel so nice to have his arms around my waist, wait what? Why is he still staring at me--  
Lance finished washing his dish, punched Keith in the arm (which Keith somehow managed to lean into slightly) and left the kitchen.  
Keith fell back against the counter. Fuck.  
**  
Lance now bumped into Keith as much as he did the other inhabitants of the castle. For Lance it was a comfort thing, but for Keith it was a kind of closness and ease he'd never before had.  
Currently, Keith was sprawled out on the floor of Shiro's room, his hands folded on his stomach, contemplating his and Lance's changing dynamic.  
"Are you just going to brood in my room now?" Shiro teased. He was in bed with a book of all things, some historical drama, and every now and then his phone would buzz, pulling a smile from his concentrated reading face, and he would answer with a long text.  
"That Allura you're texting?" Keith asked, "did you teach her to text? I bet you had Pidge rig up some flip-phone style thing for the two of you, just so you could send her heart emojis."  
Shiro blushed, but very quickly caught onto Keith's tactic. "Hey," he quickly responded, sitting up further, "no changing the subject! What are you brooding about?" Keith rolled his eyes and glared at his big brother, I do not BROOD," he muttered.  
"Is it Red? This last mission? Is it cause I'm spending more time with Allura these days? Is the space finally getting to you? Because I told you--"  
"It's Lance," Keith practically yelled, just to shut him up.  
Shiro blinked. Keith realized how that sounded. "You're brooding about Lance?" "Yeah, wait, NO! I'm worried about him! He's always been kinda weirdly touchy, but now he's kinda weirdly clingy. And I don't like it! I mean, I don't mind it-- but I feel like it means there's something up with him, you know!?"  
"Uh.... Huh," Shiro intoned, staring at Keith, beginning to break into a smile, "you don't mind it?"  
"What? Yes. NO! Is that all you got from that!?" Shiro laughed, and Keith pouted. He hardly thought this was the time to be making fun of his poor social skills. He'd come to Shiro for advice, and now the older boy was laughing at him.  
"I think the space is getting to Lance," Shiro finally said, "you have me and I have you, but Lance has no family out here in the big wide void of space, and that's a difficult thing." Keith nodded, and Shiro peered down at him, practically watching the gears turn in his head behind his signature brooding face.  
**  
Keith wanted to pretend that Lance's ease with him was a burden, but really, he leaned into the touch in a way even he didn't really understand. Walking back from a meeting with the Blade to their lions, Keith had been deep in thought-- not brooding though, he didn't brood-- and Lance had run up behind him, easily throwing an arm around his shoulders. Shiro and Allura walked ahead of them, deep in debate.  
"You okay, you look kinda broody," Lance teased, bumping Keith with his hip. The only problem was that Keith was about a head shorter, so lance mostly bumped the side of his stomach. "I do not brood!" Keith snapped, and Lance laughed, easy- going and musical in his ear. "That meeting went okay, right? Aometimes I feel like I can't get a read on those guys, or what they're thinking," Lance admitted, his arm still around Keith's shoulders, falling into step with him.  
Keith didn't know what to do with his hands, so he balled them into fists and shoved them in his pockets. "Are you seriously asking me that question? I can NEVER get a read on people," Keith responded, not angry, but making a joke out of it. Lance laughed again and Keith smiled.  
"Fine, I guess that's true," Lance finally allowed. As they approached their lions, Lance slipped away from him. Keith shouldn't feel so distressed. He mentally scolded himself for acting like a 13 year old school girl with a crush.  
But as Lance shot him finger guns and called, "see you up in the castle", Keith was meditating-- yes, meditating, not brooding-- on the ghost feeling of his arm.  
**  
The first time it happened, it was late, Keith was exhausted, and they were all gathered in the main room in front of the TV. Television had stopped being a bonding exercise long ago, and was now a coping mechanism of sorts. In the evenings they were all too wiped to DO anything, but the idea of going to their sleeping quarters, alone with only their thoughts and the window out into space was too abrupt. So they sprawled out in front of the TV and watched a DVD Pidge had gotten from the space mall on their second trip.  
The only problem was the space mall had only had 3 DVDs. A season of glee, a horse movie, and a season of a show about home renovations.  
They were re-watching an episode of glee the night it happened. Keith was sat on the big couch, with Lance and hunk. Lance was grumbling about how uncomfortable the middle of the couch was, and finally he lay down, he head in hunk's lap, and his long legs unexpectantly sprawled all over Keith.  
Keith almost jumped but refrained from doing so. It surprised him how easily he eased into the weight, but he genuinely didn't mind. It was like a heavy, soft, Lance-y blanket. His legs and feet, of course, twitched with every plot development, toes flexing with anticipation as though he'd never seen this episode of glee before, and as though it held the keys to the mysteries of the universe. When the episode finished, Lance was completely asleep, and hunk had to haul him off the couch and to his room to sleep.  
God that kid was always exhausted. He almost always fell asleep in the common room, and he had this tired look about his eyes.  
Keith watched him go, fast asleep in hunk's arms, and sighed. The ghost of touch, that nagging, small, but undeniably horrible feeling was back.  
Keith said his goodnights, and stood to go to his room. Then in an uncharacteristic burst, he stopped to hug Shiro goodnight. Shiro just held him incredibly tight, hands fisted in the material of the back of his shirt, sensing what his little brother needed.  
Keith finally collapsed into his own bed, and slept wrapped around his blanket, hugging it.  
**  
The next time it happened, Keith was on edge.  
They'd just gotten back from a mission that had failed, horribly, and nobody knew when their next shot at fixing their mistakes would be. It was only Pidge, Hunk, Keith, and Lance who'd found their way into the common room, but the four team members took their usual places around the TV, the silence more than exhaustion, it was anger and disappointment and sadness and unease.  
Keith was gearing up to go punch something, or maybe do something even more self-destructive.  
But as he and Hunk sat down on the couch, and Lance flopped down between them, Lance decided he needed neither a pause, nor permission, to once again sprawl out across his teammates.  
This time, his feet landed across hunk, and he carefully lay his head down on Keith's thigh, his hand on Keith's knee, and his little bony shoulder jutting under Keith's legs. Keith froze, just a little. Lance couldn't have made a mistake.  
"Even you legs are bony and uncomfortable, mullet," Lance huffed into the fabric of Keith's jeans. Oh. Keith's jeans were ripped all the way up, and not only could he feel lance's tiny baby hairs tickling his thigh, he could also feel lance's entire ear pressing into his bare skin.  
Shiro switched on the next episode of glee, and sat down. But Keith could barely pay attention to what was happening on the screen. If he'd thought lance's feet were overly expressive, his face was even moreso. And right now Lance's face was not reacting to Glee.  
His brow was furrowed, and the edges of his lips were pulled down, into a slight pout. His eyes had a glassy, far away look, and Keith was surprised to see the beginnings of tears gathering in his eyelashes.  
Right. Lance didn't get self-destructive. He just got sad.  
Keith spent the majority of the episode listening to the sound of the TV, and watching Lance's face as he tried to blink back the tears and stop them from falling. When the TV went blank, the disc directing them back to the menu screen, Lance was fast asleep.  
Keith looked up, and was surprised to see Hunk gone. "He slipped out right after the second song," Pidge whispered from their perch in the armchair, their glasses reflecting in the light of the menu screen, "he was exhausted. I'm done too, I'm gonna go. But you can watch another episode if you want."  
They eyed Lance's face shoved into Keith's legs, as they passed, but said nothing to him, only smirked and handed him the TV remote. The door slid shut behind them with the usual mechanical whirr.  
Keith wasn't tired. He was wired from the mission, and wired from lance's eyelashes and his hand, still resting on Keith's knee.  
He put another episode in to play, and tried to feel tired.  
It finished faster than he'd wanted and Lance was still snoring softly. The common room was dark and empty, and sounds in the castle having died out. Keith stared down at the Cuban boy. Should he.... Wake him up?? Hunk had easily carried Lance to his room. That was it. If Keith could just deposit him into bed without waking him up.  
Keith carefully shimmied out from under Lance, setting his head down on the couch. Then he turned, contemplated the long limbs, and scooped his teammate up, bridal style.  
Damn the boy was heavier than he looked. And he was all long, noodle limbed adorableness, and Keith fumbled to gather him all up. By the time he'd reached the doors, lance's head had lolled onto his chest, his eyes still shut. Wait, adorable?  
"Hunk?" Lance's sleepy voice asked. Shit. "No, it's um, Keith?" Keith responded quietly, making his way down the hall. Maybe he was sleep talking.  
He stopped in his tracks when he realized Lance was crying. Sleep crying was not good.  
"Hey, hey, hey," Keith murmured, "hey, what's wrong?" Lance buried his face in Keith's t-shirt. "It'ss my room," Lance mumbled between hiccups, "it's too cold and empty and dark and I know that I'm a paladin of Voltron but I just can't sleep there if I'm awake when I go in you know?!"  
"Okay, okay," Keith soothed. He got loneliness, he really did. He was just.... used to being alone. He tightened his grip on Lance and re-directed them to his own room.  
When he reached his door, he pressed the open with his knee, and Lance sniffled into his collar. The door slid open and closed behind them with a whirr and Keith flicked on both lights, before setting Lance down in bed.  
The boy was definitely awake, because he climbed out of Keith's arms and sat on the edge of the bed, blushing and avoiding his eyes.  
"You can.... Um.... You can sleep here if you want. Tonight. Sorry, I figured you were mostly asleep." Lance only blushed more at this and nodded his okay.  
Keith went into the bathroom, gently closed the door, and slid to the floor. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!! Keith leaned back against the metal door.  
He resisted the urge to scream into a towel and instead changed quickly into pyjamas and re-emerged into his own room.  
Lance was tucked into the sleeping bunk, his back to the wall, one of Keith's pillows hugged tightly to his chest. Keith stood awkwardly in the bathroom doorframe. Lance looked so small, and so sad, and so sweet.  
"I'll sleep on the floor, you take the bed," Keith whispered, not even managing to sound annoyed. Lance perked his head up at the sound of Keith's voice, and shook his head. "There's room here," he murmured, patting the bed and squishing farther into the wall.  
Keith paused, but shuffled towards the bed, and fell into it, completely on the edge, away from Lance. He closed his eyes, but was even more wired than before.  
I wasn't long before Lance, eternal, adorable, long, noodle-boy Lance, was shuffling around and mumbling, hugging Keith's pillow tighter. Keith sighed, and was about to say something, when Lance wiggled, still trying to get comfortable with no room, and grabbed his arm.  
Keith practically jumped out of his skin at the warmth. Lance yanked his hand away, and sat half way up, mumbling, "shit, sorry." Keith grabbed his hand. "It's fine, Lance."  
Keith opened his eyes. Lance hovered over him, looking scared and uncharacteristically bashful. "Just.... Come here and go to sleep, okay?" Keith asked quietly.  
Lance didn't hesitate. He fell into Keith side, arms thrown around Keith and all mixed up in the castle blankets. Keith made an small sound at being so suddenly squished, but wrapped his arms around Lance just as quickly.  
Keith melted into Lance in such a ferocious sureness that he almost scared himself. Lance hummed, face buried in Keith's collar, and fell asleep almost instantaneously.  
**  
Keith woke up to banging on his metal bedroom door, and pidge yelling. Shit. If Pidge sounded upset, it must be serious.  
For a minute, Keith was confused. He felt warm and.... Snuggly?? His head was tucked into somebody's shoulder, and there were arms around him, holding him close in an octopus hug. Lance.  
"What is it?!" Keith yelled groggily, trying to sit up. Lance's grip on him tightened, and Lance, very sleepily, said "no."  
"Lance is missing, we can't find him anywhere on the ship!! Hunk is freaking out!!"  
Keith frowned. They shouldn't be freaking out, Lance was right here. Lance shouted "shhhhhh" at Pidge, at the same time that Keith finally found the words to respond, "s'ok!! Lance is in here with me!!"  
"Lance is.... In there?"  
"Yeah!!"  
It took a couple minutes after Pidge had left for Keith to piece together how that sounded. Oh.  
Lance nuzzled into the top of his head, mumbling to himself. "Lance?" Keith whispered, wondering if he should wake him up. He looked up to see lance's eyelashes flutter open. "Oh, hey," Lance whispered back.  
Keith waited for the inevitable "hahahaHA THAT WAS WEIRD" and for Lance to shove him out of his own bed. Surely, this had crossed even Lance McClain's figurative snuggle line in the sand.  
But no, Lance just kept blinking down at him. "Sorry," Lance said finally, "did I, um, get all up in your personal space?" Keith shook his head, "no, s'ok."  
God, Keith hadn't slept through the night in fucking years. Sure, his knife was still tucked under his pillow, and yeah, Lance slept heavier than him, so Keith wasn't exactly sure how the other boy was a comfort but.... Keith looked up at him. He felt safe.  
The castle lights were already on, signalling daylight in earth-time, and Keith realized he'd missed his chance to train in the morning like he always did.  
Keith's stomach made a stomach noise, and Lance laughed into his pillow. "Breakfast?" He asked, rolling out of the bed, and standing. He looked down at himself, as Keith blinked sleep out of his eyes and curled instinctively around a pillow. Come back, Keith wanted to say, get back here so we can snuggle and I can lay my head on your chest and hear your heartbeat again get back here. "Hey look," Lance remarked, "I'm already dressed."  
When they finally arrived in the kitchen, Keith had nearly forgotten he had to face Pidge and their smirking. Allura, Coran and hunk didn't seem to find anything odd about Lance being found in Keith's room early in the morning, but Pidge stared, viciously delighted, at him over their cereal, and Shiro kept trying to catch his eye, smiling in a way that Keith had come to dislike over the many years.  
** later that dayyyyyy  
Keith was digging in the castle equivalent of a pantries cupboards for dry cereal, it was about an hour until dinner was supposed to be ready-- that was, if Shiro and Allura ever stopped flirting and started cooking-- but sue him, he was hungry.  
"Hey, mullet," Lance said from the doorway. "Hey goofball," Keith replied easily, not turning. He was still after his goddamn cereal.  
Before he was really aware of lance's movement, tanned arms were sliding around the small of his waist, and lance's nose was smooshed into his shoulder. He could feel lance's breath through his t-shirt.  
Without thinking, Keith grabbed Lance's arms and tightened the grip around himself. Lance breathed out then in, shaky breaths.  
Lance seemed to nod to himself, and detached, detangling his arms from Keith's. Keith sighed, hands clenched tightly into fists, as Lance left as easily as he'd come.  
**  
Lance had glow in the dark stars on the roof of his bunk. Keith didn't know how he'd gotten them-- they were in space for god's sake-- but the stark contrast between them and the actual constellations right outside the window was somehow hilarious and beautiful.  
"What are you laughing about?" Lance asked, from the headboard.  
Keith looked up at him, smiling. “Nothing.”  
**  
"Keith. Keith. That's pretty gay."  
Keith stopped his animated recount of the previous afternoons actions and glared at Shiro. "Is not! You said so yourself! The space is getting to Lance and I don't mind his cuddles so maybe the space is getting to me too!"  
"You just used 'lance' and 'cuddle' in a sentence together and now you're smiling into the middle distance," Shiro responded immediately, and sat up in his seat on the bed in attention. "Keith has a crush!" He yelped, smiling like an idiot, then immediately fell serious, ready to depart some big brotherly advice.  
Keith made a gargled inhuman noise. "Do not!"  
"Keeeith," Shiro drawled, shaking his knee and grinning like a middle school girl, all seriousness evaporating. "Keith, Keith, Keith. You have to be careful about this, okay? We're all stuck in space. Don't break his heart."  
Keith squawked and spluttered for a moment before muttering, "I.... Couldn't do that to him. Fuck! Shiro! I like like Lance! What do I do?!"  
Shiro laughed louder than Keith had heard in a long time. "Get back to your cuddling. Go on."  
Keith rolled his eyes and rolled out of Shiro's familiar bunk. "I'm not going to cuddle. I'm going to spar. And clear my head."  
"Mhh hmm," Shiro drawled, nodding sagely.  
**  
Keith's small realization about the nature of his feelings for Lance McClain had, unfortunately, changed everything. Now everytime Lance brushed past him in the kitchen, cuddled up to him on the couch, randomly pretended to trip him in the hallway only to hold him steady by the shoulders....  
Keith was attentive of everything, Lance's touch, his crinkly-nosed smile, his high-pitched laugh. Keith over-analyzed everything, every word, every look. Keith was quite suddenly a blushing, stuttering mess. Thanks, Shiro. Thanks, brain. Suddenly, every single touch was fire.  
He had left dinner early last night, before they had a chance to gather in front of the television. Shiro and everyone else watched anxiously as he left and he felt acutely guilty for causing them to worry. Not as guilty as he felt when he thought about why he'd left early.  
He was sneaking out before Lance could sneak into his room for another night. Not that he didn't want to be all wrapped up in Lance, not that he didn't want desperately to help him sleep, to make him feel safe.  
He just couldn't-- There was no way he could-- Not without blurting out exactly how he felt. Because, if previous experiences were anything to go by, Keith was both blunt and impulsive, and he would end up saying something stupid. He thought about what Shiro said.... He didn't want to do anything that would make Lance upset, and he didn't want to lose this new side of Lance he was privileged enough to now get to see.  
However that didn't stop him from feeling guilty. He'd given Lance no reason for his sudden coolness, and when Lance arrived at breakfast looking sleep-deprived, confused and a little sad, Keith's stomach dropped.  
The siren sounded. The fucking siren sounded.  
They all hoped up, toppling chairs over in their hast, breakfast forgotten. Keith yanked on all his armour and slung himself up into his lion completely on autopilot. The actions felt good, and solid.  
**  
The battle had been hair raising. Keith could taste blood in his mouth and his hair was matted with more blood and his eyes had shiny slick half-circles under them from dried up tears. He stumbled out of his lion and automatically into Shiro's arms, Shiro checking him to make sure he was all in one piece.  
Shiro went on to each of the other Paladins, essentially patting them all over to check they were all there. It helped calm and refocus him after battle, and it helped each paladin reassess. A few times he'd patted a wound somebody hadn't registered yet, through the adrenaline and endorphins.  
Keith tried to focus on the calming of Shiro's breathing as he worked.  
"You all have five minutes to wash up," Coran said quickly, looking each paladin over sympathetically, "then we're shuttling down to the surface to speak with the planet's leaders."  
Keith arrived back in the hanger wearing jeans and his comfiest hoodie having barely registered the trip to his room and back. Lance and Pidge were already there, looking tired in a way that only battle could make them.  
Keith stood beside them against the metal wall, breathing through his mouth and staring off at the far wall. As the far wall began to blur in his vision, Lance silently slipped a hand into his. "Um.... Can I....?"  
Keith cut him off with a gentle squeeze and a nod, and Lance relaxed. Keith should say something. His brain was shouting, overthinking overthinking overthinking, but Lance was upset. "You survived the battle, sharpshooter," Keith whispered, "shouldn't the diplomatic dinner be all flirting with aliens and smooth sailing?"  
Lance laughed a beautiful laugh and leaned his head on Keith's shoulder, a bit of a stretch for the tall noodle-y boy. "Yeah. I dunno. I'm just.... Not really feeling up for talking."  
"Do what I do," Keith whispered back, "stand in the corner and brood. You don't have to talk to anybody." Lance giggled, hiding his face in Keith's collar, "so you admit that you brood!!"  
Lance didn't let go of his hand the entire shuttle trip down, walk across the alien town, diplomatic dinner (where thankfully Shiro, Allura and Coran did all the talking), or shuttle trip back up. Occasionally Keith would whisper something witty to Lance and he would laugh, and occasionally Lance would squeeze his hand and he'd squeeze back. For the most part Lance was completely uncharacteristically quiet.  
The team dispersed from the hangar, Shiro with Allura, Hunk carrying a sleeping Pidge, and Coran checking locks. Lance untangled their finger's finally, and Keith gingerly retrieved his sweaty hand, brain already running a mile a minute. Friend thing? Not a friend thing? What would Shiro say? Would he hold hands with Hunk or Pidge?  
God social rules were both confounding and exhausting.  
Lance didn't go anywhere but stayed put and stared at Keith. "Um, hey.... Hunk doesn't really get good sleep when I stay with him and Pidge won't let me cuz they say I'm too wiggly, and I don't think Shiro would either but I mean you never know maybe I should ask...."  
Lance trailed of and stared at him again. Keith sighed and looked down at the ground. "You can stay with me, it's no problem." First step of the don't-let-your-little-crush-on-Lance-fuck-everything-up plan: Keith was going to do anything to keep that dejected, dismissed and a little bit scared look off of Lance's face. Even if it meant sacrificing a bit of his sanity.  
**  
Keith woke up on his side with arms around him. It had taken him hours to fall asleep last night, painfully awake and staying rigidly still, and God he was tired. He'd fallen asleep more detached from Lance then the previous time they'd bunked together, but somehow, at some point in the night, Lance had enveloped him.  
It felt nice. Really nice.  
Too nice. He couldn't have this. Not really. His throat burned at the thought and he opened his sleep- blurry eyes.  
As he began to wiggle away back into his own space, Lance's arms tightened, and the sleep-rumpled Cuban boy mumbled a sleepy but bossy, "no."  
"Lance," Keith huffed continuing to wiggle away. Lance buried his button nose into the hair in the back of Keith's head, and breathed onto the back of his neck. “Lance.” Keith, tried, a little bit more demanding. But somehow the end of it tapered off into a breathy gasp.  
Lance left wet, open-mouthed kiss on the back of his neck.  
“Lance….” Keith whined, valiantly trying to wiggle away and out of his solid grasp. He was asleep. He was dreaming…. Who was he dreaming about? Keith’s throat burned. Was it an old fantasy? Or worse, some girl from earth? Oh, god, or worse: somebody they knew. Allura? One of the mermaids, or--?  
“Come here you idiot,” Lance murmured lowly, tightening his arms and bringing them up from the small of Keith’s waist to his chest. Lance kissed him again, bringing Keith’s earlobe in between his teeth, and then breathed out steadily, his breath fanning across the back of Keith’s neck. Keith full body shivered at that, and he could’ve sworn he heard Lance hum out a laugh. “I love you so much,” Lance breathed, his voice just barely audible.  
New strategy.  
Unable to speak for fear of his voice breaking, Keith began to peel each one of Lance’s finger’s back from his chest. When he’d successfully ridded himself of Lance’s right hand, Lance easily caught Keith’s wrist and then slid to interlock their fingers, pulling their joined hands back to Keith’s chest.  
Well, fuck.  
Dreaming Lance seemed unconcerned by Keith’s wiggling, and perhaps Keith wasn’t doing a very good job of wiggling in a hostile manner. With every breath Lance took he melted a little further into the bed, before cursing himself and struggling valiantly again. “Do that again,” Dreaming Lance whispered, nearly begging, his lips brushing over Keith’s shoulder as he spoke. Whatever the other person in the dream had done, Lance seemed to approve, as he all but moaned and tightened his grip on Keith. “Fuck,” Dream Lance breathed, pushing his waist against Keith’s back, “you’re so beautiful…. Keith….”  
Keith froze in his mission to escape, shocked. Surely, he hadn’t heard that right. Lance was barely audible, Keith had to have imagined that, just because it was what he wanted to hear from those pretty lips. Keith turned to his side, trying to get a look at Lance’s face.  
All this did was allow Lance throw a leg over him, hooking a knee over his hip, and breath hotly into the side of his neck instead of the back. Keith blushed. He should wake Lance up, he should wake Lance up…. Fuck his embarrassment at being caught in such a position, he should wake Lance before the other boy changed his heart forever.  
Lance rolled his hips up against Keith’s side, and Keith stared up at his ceiling, asking whatever higher powers there may be why they would curse him in such a fashion. “Keith,” Lance whined again, not a whispered but demanding, solid.  
Keith whirled to face him. He hadn’t imagined that.  
Now looking at the flushed face next to him Keith could only shudder to think the cuban boy was…. Dreaming about him? He brought his hands up to Lance’s shoulders, his neck and his cheeks, and said louder, as loud as he dared whisper-- as loud as a speaking voice-- “Lance.”  
Lance’s eyes blinked open in surprise. His tongue darted out over his lips, and he stared up at Keith in a dazed state. For a moment he seemed to be content to close his eyes again and lean into Keith’s hands, but then his eyes flew open once more and he stared in shock and embarrassment.  
The expression lasted a millisecond, because as Keith moved to pull him closer by his face, the castle alarm went off.  
“Galra,” Lance said, his voice still rough with sleep. “What?!” Keith asked in disbelief. His world had narrowed to Lance, and to making Lance make those happy noises again, this time with them both awake.  
“Galra,” Lance repeated dumbly, “the Galran Empire is attacking. Space. Lions. Shoot-y shoot-y missiles and guns. We-- we need to suit up.”  
Keith only looked at him for a moment longer, and then Lance was rolling over him, feet slamming onto the metal floor. Lance flung Keith’s small closet open, the metallic automated door protesting at the manual handling, and messily pulled on of the four hanging black bodysuits there from it’s hanger.  
They each had several black bodysuits to go under their armour.  
Lance threw one at Keith who barely caught it, and then Lance yanked another one off from the next hanger over.  
“What are you doing?” Keith demanded as the alarm continued to blare. Lance stared up at him bewildered. “Oh, I’m sorry, your majesty. May I borrow one of your beautiful, precious space catsuits which are in all ways the same as mine?” Lance asked sarcastically, “I figured, in the name of saving the universe and all I shouldn’t waste too much time running all around the castle.”  
Keith only nodded, and Lance yanked his shirt off over his head. “Hey--!” was all Keith could manage before Lance’s nimble fingers were on the waistband of his pyjama pants, efficient and determined. Keith barely snapped his eyes shut in time, but still recieved the image of tight black boxers and a little bit too much thigh.  
Fuck. Really?  
When he dared open his eyes again, Lance was yelling about heading for the hanger, and ordering Keith to put his “stupid suit” on.  
Really? He had to go and put Keith’s suit on, a little bit too tight, and a little bit too short in the arms and legs, and a little bit too hugging of everything, and then sprint from the fucking room.  
Keith groaned, standing to change.  
He made his way to the hanger, where his other armour pieces were.  
It was very hard to get a boner the size of the Galran Empire into his stupid, form fitting outer armour.  
**  
Keith had told Shiro about his feelings for Lance. Which, in previous years, would’ve meant it was a complete and absolute secret. But with him and Allura now sharing everything with one another, of course Allura knew. And because Coran was such a good friend to Allura, practically family, the two of them would de-stress with the Altean equivalent of a slumber party, and so of course he had heard from Allura. And everybody knew Coran couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, so when he’d started acting odd, it hadn’t been difficult for Pidge to extract the truth from him. And of course Pidge was all too eager to tell Hunk, as they had a feeling Lance might feel the same way, and it would be rude not to help their teammates out if they could.  
And that’s how Hunk ended up telling Lance that Keith had a crush on him.  
For a while it was all Lance could do to pray that Keith didn’t know that he knew. After all, he didn’t want to lose the newfound closeness he had with him. Keith’s unwavering solidity and gentleness kept him going through battle and celebratory dinner alike. After fighting or training, the first thing Lance wanted to do was go find Keith. Hell, after breakfast, the first thing Lance wanted to do was go find Keith.  
He was completely smitten and-- apparently Keith liked him back. So why hadn’t Keith made a move yet? Was he taking the more responsible road and accepting two paladins for the fighting force freeing the galaxy in a romantic relationship was a fucking recipe for disaster? Surely he couldn’t be waiting for Lance to move first. Keith was all impulse, no control.  
**  
“I’m sorry, but you told who?!” Keith asked incredulously, heart pounding. “Allura….?” Shiro said meekly, “but Keith she honestly doesn’t care and she’d never tell Lance--”  
Keith stomped from the room, looking for the princess.  
….  
“Well, now that you mention it, Keith…. I may have told Coran. But he’s old! He wouldn’t spill gossip!”  
….  
“Nope. Didn’t tell anybody. Not a soul. You can count on me, Keith.”  
Keith pinched the bridge of his nose. “Coran, you’re acting weird and I can tell you’re lying. Who’d you tell?”  
Coran twisted his mustache for a moment, then finally huffed: “Pidge! But they wormed it out of me!”  
Keith’s stomach sank.  
….  
“Oh yeah, of course I told Hunk and of course he told Lance. Who do you think we are, good friends?” Pidge scoffed. Keith’s eyes widened marginally, and he felt himself slowly sink into the opening depths of hell.  
“Great. Thanks, Pidge,” he bit out, “so how long do I have before the inevitable ‘no homo’ of the century?”  
Their smile turned sly, “that’s just it. One would’ve expected such a display from Lance McClain, but he just looked floored. Blushing, stuttering, checking that we weren’t pranking him, everything.”  
Keith’s heart stopped beating. Then restarted at a runner's pace, and then stopped again. RIP.  
They were interrupted by Lance himself. He’d changed out of his battle armour, out of Keith’s catsuit, and into pyjamas, though it was only about two in the afternoon. He’d showered, because his hair was still wet, and he looked exhausted. He was battered in bruises and small cuts, but other than that he was all in one piece.  
Pidge and Keith watched him cross the room with baited breath. He was seemingly unaware of their staring, as he located a mug, and then the castle’s equivalent of orange juice from the fridge, and then set both down on the island, right fucking next to Keith. The whole kitchen of counters, and he had to lean his stupid weight up against Keith, place his stupid bony but adorable chin on Keith’s shoulder.  
Keith opened his mouth, unsure what he was going to say, and Lance cut him off. “Debrief in five minutes,” he said quietly to the two of them, mostly to Keith. Lance wrapped a hand around the back of Keith’s waist. “You okay? You take any hits out there?”  
“I’m fine,” keith managed to squeak.  
As Lance left Pidge and Keith both stared after him in shock.  
“He…. He knows,” Keith spluttered, when he was sufficiently out of earshot, “he knows how I feel and he….” Pidge only nodded sadly. “He’s an idiot.”  
**  
The debrief was interesting.  
They held it in the TV room, piled around in the couches and chairs. There were options for Keith as to where to sit. Shiro had a space next to him. There was an empty armchair. Not so mysteriously, Pidge and Hunk had both left Lance completely alone on his big couch, leaving plenty of room beside him.  
Keith marched over to Lance and his stupid space orange juice and settled himself down into Lance’s lap.  
Nevermind how comfortable it was to sink into the taller boy, Keith was on a mission. He mouthed to Pidge, “is he blushing?” and they nodded vigorously back. For a moment, Lance seemed incapable of movement, and then his arm snaked slowly around Keith’s middle.  
Keith would not be outdone in a fight he’d declared. He leaned back against Lance’s shoulder, and turned his head so he could whisper into the shell of Lance’s ear.  
“How about you?”  
“Hun?” Lance responded dumbly, breathing picking up.  
“You take any hits out there?” Keith clarified, lacing his fingers through the hand holding him steady.  
Lance shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”  
“You sure?” Keith pressed, ghosting a finger over a new cut on Lance’s collarbone, visible since the worn out neckline on his pyjama shirt was slouching. Lance shivered, and tightened his hold on Keith.  
“Good work today, guys,” Shiro said re-assuringly, but seriously, “let’s take a quick look at some of the patterns we flew, and where the breaks in them were--”  
“Just a scratch,” Lance replied. Keith ran his finger over the cut. He rested his head under Lance’s jaw.  
“.... Pidge, when you and Green flew around the left flank of the flight pattern, it….”  
Slowly, heart pounding inside his eardrums, Keith leaned forwards and pressed a chaste kiss to the cut on Lance’s collarbone.  
“Excuse me for a second,” Lance said loudly, and abruptly as he stood, throwing Keith onto his feet and drawing every eye in the room, “I have to go. So does Keith.”  
He grabbed Keith’s shirt roughly and hauled him from the room.  
“What the hell?” Lance demanded, as soon as the doors had closed behind them in the empty hallway and they were out of earshot.  
Oh shit.  
Had Keith miscalculated?  
“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” he mumbled, casting his eyes down.  
“Oh no,” Lance breathed, “oh no no no no--” he pushed Keith against the wall with the flat of his palm, and glared at him “-- you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to act all weird and then all normal again. You don’t get to carry me to your room and cuddle me and then fucking disspear and avoid me like the plauge for 24 hours and then whisper reassurances in my ear all dinner because I’m fucking holding onto your hand like a lifeline and there pretend like there’s nothing up and not even come to me after the battle, just fucking talk to everybody else in the castle about lord knows what then come sit in my lap and hold my hand and get my hopes all up again only so you can promise to pretend like it never happened?”  
“Are you done?” Keith asked.  
“No. Yes…. Maybe,” Lance’s glare had been replaced with a flush and a look of faint confusion.  
“Can I kiss you?” Keith asked.  
Lance’s mouth opened and closed without sound a few times.  
“Yes.”  
Keith leaned forwards, laughing, and kissed Lance softly.  
“We should go back to the meeting,” Keith whispered, leaning back, his head resting against the wall, to look at Lance.  
“No,” Lance said with finality, kissing him again.  
“Lance--”  
Lance picked Keith up from the waist, balancing his weight between his own torso and the cool metal wall. “No,” Lance repeated. Keith rolled his eyes, but gave in, wrapping his legs around Lance's waist.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank u so much to everybody that's posted nice comments they make me so happy :)


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